


Questions

by birbwin



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Midnight Confessions, Pining!Erwin, Pining!Levi, canonverse, post-acwnr/pre-fall of Shiganshina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 19:37:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4275462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birbwin/pseuds/birbwin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This conversation is over. That’s an order.”</p><p>Levi swats at the desk in a fit of rage, sends a pyroclastic flow of tea, bread, and paperwork surging towards him. “Fuck you and your orders,” he yells, storming out of the room. He doesn’t even register the feeling of hot tea burning in his lap as he gapes at the door, shocked into numb stupidity.</p><p>Every time Levi leaves he creates a different type of silence, and today it stings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Questions

**Author's Note:**

> birbwin.tumblr.com

After the last expedition fails, his captain borderline dotes on him.

It confuses him at first, the excessive attention. Sure, Levi _always_ goes the extra mile for him: cleaning his quarters, bringing him coffee, making sure his uniform is washed properly. Even the flicker of Levi’s shadow against the cold wall of his quarters has become a familiar comfort for him in the late nights when he assists him by lamplight.

But now Levi waits on him like a servant from the capital. He finishes his routine duties and immediately seeks Erwin out, like a homing pigeon chasing its nest before dusk. Erwin’s stomach barely rumbles before food is dropped in front of him. He hardly brushes a hand through his hair and Levi is ready with a comb. On one of his visibly rougher days, Levi even brings him some expensive candy – drops it on his desk nonchalantly like a cat might a dead mouse at its owners feet, grumbles a low “cheer the fuck up.”

Erwin has a fantastic sense of self-preservation, so he doesn’t inquire about it. He figures an explanation is coming soon anyway, if the way Levi is now pacing uselessly around his office is any indication. The captain inspects Erwin’s bookshelf, acts like he’s hunting for dust, but Erwin knows he’s stringing words together in his head like he always does before he has something contemplative to say.

So he waits, patient.

It always amuses Erwin that for a man so blunt, Levi is also very careful when he wants to say something important. It’s as though he’s trying to decide on the best possible delivery so that no meaning is lost during transmission. He waits for the moment when Levi will throw caution to the wind and blurt what has been on his mind, and he knows it has arrived when Levi abruptly turns around and stalks up to his desk.  
  
“I’m curious,” he says, “when you think about saving ‘humanity’, do you see...faces?” The question is quick, spoken like he’s ripping off a crusty bandage.

Erwin leans back in his chair, scratches at the stubble sprouting on his chin. He sees Levi’s eyes narrow at the motion, probably taking note to assault him with a razor later.

“You mean…do I have particular people in mind that serve as…motivation?” he says slowly.

“Yeah,” Levi responds, “I guess.”

He thinks about his fallen soldiers, his comrades, the children that line the streets with twinkling eyes as they ride outside the walls. He thinks, distantly, of Marie and the infants she raises. He thinks of all the faces that visit him at night, the blurred mesh of living and dead.

He thinks about his father, his debt. “Well of course,” is all he manages to say.

Levi deflates, the smallest drop of his shoulders, and Erwin feels a little guilty. He realises he probably made it sound like the question was stupid, but he hardly has time to rectify the misunderstanding before Levi is nodding and heading towards the door, claiming it’s dinner time.

He’s not sure why, but he feels like he just missed an opportunity for something he cannot name.

 

* * *

 

Another week passes by and Levi _still_ waits on him. He tells the captain time and time again that he doesn’t need to trouble himself this much, but it’s always met with an apathetic scoff. Erwin decides he has to draw the line.

It’s not because he finds it irritating – not at all – on the contrary, he cherishes Levi’s company a lot more than he’s ready to admit. Rather, it’s because he’s noticed that the captain has forgone his own hobbies in favour of lurking in his office or trailing behind him every time he goes somewhere other than the bathroom.

He’s not sure what thoughts are driving his behaviour and he still doesn’t want to ask, wants to let Levi bring it up at his own pace. But he knows the value of relaxation, too, and all this doting isn’t good for his health – he’s stretched thin and overworked as it is.

So one day he decides to act. As usual, Levi finishes his duties and enters his office, his hair still dripping wet from his shower. 

“Need help?” he asks as he drags a chair to sit beside him.

“No, thank you, the paperwork is all done.” It wasn’t, but he didn’t need to know.

“Seriously? Not bad,” he hums. Erwin fidgets with his files and notices, from his peripheral, Levi’s eyelids sinking under the weight of sleep. The bags under his eyes shine purple.

“No, Levi,” he says with a shake of his head, “not tonight.”

“Ha?” Levi splutters as he’s pulled from the brink of sleep.

“Sleep in your bed."

Levi’s thin brows greet in confusion. “It’s not a big deal,” he half yawns, half sneers. His frown intensifies when he realises Erwin’s firm – serious – gaze is set on him.

“You should sleep properly, not like this.” Erwin points at the chair and he follows the movement.

Levi searches his eyes, pupils the blackest black, an endless chasm that have Erwin falling. “Do you want me to go?” Somehow, he looks small, in every sense of the word, and Erwin feels burning guilt pluck at his heartstrings at the question. He suddenly wants nothing more than to cup his pale face in his hands and smooth the creases of his brow with his thumbs.  
  
Instead he averts his gaze to his desk and starts aligning his things neatly. “I think it’s for the best.”

Levi leaves without a word and the silence he leaves behind makes a deep sort of sadness settle heavy in his chest.

He tells himself, again, that it really is for the best.

 

* * *

 

Levi doesn’t try to sleep on the chair in his quarters anymore, but other than that he’s not deterred. Erwin amps it up.

“I need to go to the capital in a day or two,” he says during breakfast in his office, having woken up to it practically on his lap. “I have to speak to a contact.”

He hopes the trip will restore things back to default settings, hopes that Levi’s damaging and altruistic doting will stop, given enough space.

Levi sips his tea. “When do we leave?”

He meets Levi’s eyes, his own firm and unyielding. “I’m going on my own.”

There’s a piercing silence that consumes them, and then Levi rasps, no, grits, “is that so” through his teeth. It’s a disastrous attempt at indifference.

“Yes,” Erwin affirms, “I apologise, but it’s for the best.”

Levi’s face melts from irritation into something wounded, so he doesn’t expect it when his teacup and saucer suddenly slam down _hard_ on his desk, the clang of glass sending a sharp pang rumbling in his eardrums. “Again with that ‘it’s for the best’ bullshit?” he hisses, “are you serious right now?”

“It’s not up for debate.”

“And why the fuck not? Do you think it’s safe to be strutting around the capital on your own, like everything we fucking do doesn’t depend on you? You’re just gonna walk around the streets with a big target on your back?”

“My safety won’t be an issue,” he states simply.

“That’s reckless as fuck, Erwin, even I know better than that.” Levi is gripping the edge of his desk hard, body trembling with harsh breaths.

“Captain,” he warns, his voice all rough edge and low octaves. The title is detached, burns cold on his tongue. He practically _feels_ the distance it puts between them.

“Stubborn bastard,” Levi hisses, “you’re – ”

“This conversation is over. That’s an order.”

Levi swats at the desk in a fit of rage, sends a pyroclastic flow of tea, bread, and paperwork surging towards him. “Fuck you _and_ your orders,” he yells before storming out of the room. He doesn’t even register the feeling of hot tea burning in his lap as he gapes at the door, shocked into numb stupidity.

Every time Levi leaves he creates a different type of silence, and today it stings.

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t see him for the rest of the day and he barely gets anything done because of it. He can’t recall a time when Levi got so worked up, when he so violently questioned and challenged him – not after Isabel and Farlan, at least.

He knows that after all is said and done that the captain trusts him, has given him his beating heart true and whole. His situation isn’t so precarious that he can’t visit the capital alone, and Levi knows this too.

The only logical conclusion, then, is that there is some emotional element at play. He tries to connect the incident to the question that Levi asked him that day: _when you think about saving humanity, do you see faces?_

It’s all linked somehow – the question, the doting, the anger – he’s sure of it. Yet for the life of him he can’t understand it, can’t piece it together and figure out what it is that’s driving Levi. It’s a network of unsolved questions that multiplies the deeper he delves into it.

At first he had thought that Levi felt sorry for him, given that the previous expedition had failed. The knowledge that Levi isn’t the type to outwardly showcase such strong sympathy quickly dispelled that idea. Besides, Levi, above anyone else, detests sulking – he simply would not allow it, from the commander nonetheless.

Of course, he even considered the possibility that Levi had developed feelings for him, and whilst there is a chance that could be true, it’s too out of character for Levi to develop a militant doting regime overnight. It’s more than a sudden crush.

The only thing he is certain of is that he misses him after only having gone a few hours without him. He can’t even bring himself to be angry, because even though he has the right to be, his mind won’t stop playing scenes of Levi’s face scrunching up in hurt, at the way he tried to mask it with ire. 

The day before his trip to the capital arrives, and he expects Levi to make an appearance. He doesn’t. He had admired his skills of evasion when he had first arrested him years back, but he never thought a day would come where they would be employed against him once more. He _could_ seek him out himself, command him to speak to him, but if Levi is still simmering with anger any attempts at communication will be futile.

So he retires to his office early that night after his captain-less dinner and sulks as he packs his bag. He throws items in without discrimination, content to fill it up with things that look to be convenient. His mind is heavy, absent, here but not. _Fuck you and your orders._

It’s clichéd, but he didn’t realise how heavily he relied on Levi’s support, on Levi’s solidarity and presence, until he felt his absence. He begins to doubt himself slightly, wonders if the captain was right to advise him against travelling alone, that maybe it wasn’t just an emotionally charged verbal rampage born out of rejection. 

He heads to bed and decides to sleep it off. He is a commander after all and his business tomorrow is important, requires his full attention and high energy levels. It works for a while, but he finds himself brooding again.

It just doesn’t sit right with him, to be fighting with Levi, his loyal, lovely Levi with his smooth alabaster face that spits barbed witticisms at every turn.

He doesn’t toss and turn, but he does allow his moping to introduce a string of morbid thoughts that keep him up well into the night. He jolts out of bed when he hears his doorknob turning, makes for the knife under his pillow. Everyone should be asleep at this late hour.

He releases it when he makes out Levi’s small form padding towards his bed, illuminated by the dying lamp he left on his bedside table.

“Levi,” he breathes, both surprised at his appearance _and_ at the instant relief he feels cascading throughout him. Levi sits on the edge of the bed with his back to him, folds up his knees up to his chest. Erwin waits. He is always waiting.

“I’m sorry about the other day,” Levi finally mumbles awkwardly, “I shouldn’t have questioned your decision.”

Erwin is quick to reply. “It’s fine, i’m not angry." 

_I missed you._

Levi nods, his head bowing sullenly, and Erwin wishes he could see his face. They sit still, the walls communicating with creaks and groans in the quiet offered to them.

He leans forward and gently touches Levi’s arm, feather light, careful. “Please,” he whispers, “tell me what’s going on.”

Levi hesitates for a moment. “Not everyone can fight for this faceless entity you call humanity,” he answers eventually, “not everyone has someone to fight for.”

Erwin breathes lightly, worried that any sound could send him away.

“You do have people to fight for. What about your fallen – ”

“They’re dead, Erwin. There’s only so much the memory of the dead can do.”

“What about your squad, your living comrades?” he finds himself saying, almost pleading.

“They matter to me, but…not as much as you do.”

Levi turns to face him now and he feels his cheeks burn, his heart thumping wildly against his chest. Out of all the directions this conversation could have gone, this is what he least expected. Levi’s own cheeks are tinged pink, but he still looks more sullen than anything.

“Are you trying to say that you’re...” he trails off, surprised at his inability to ask something so simple.

“I’m asking if you will let me live for you, Erwin.”

He gapes, face locked in something stupid, he’s sure, because Levi is taking him by surprise at every turn. “I want you to live for yourself.” The words make their own way out of his mouth, and he means it.

“Devoting myself to you _would_ be living for myself. You’re the only one that I trust and respect, the only one who makes me feel anything other than hopelessness in this shitty existence of ours. Fuck, Erwin, I want to die knowing I served a man like you, because you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met.”

Erwin barely knows what to say, barely registers that he’s now gripping Levi’s arm hard. All he can think is that it suddenly all makes sense.

“When I see you out there, beyond the walls…when we ride together, when we wear blood together, every time I see how fucking hard you work…I realise that you’re someone who I want to keep fighting for. I don’t know about ‘humanity’ – it isn’t what gets me out of bed in the morning, at least not anymore. It’s you. I want to serve you in the same way you serve the ungrateful scum living within the walls. I want to help you, to make things easier for you, because when I think about saving humanity…all I see is you.”

“Levi, are you...” he chokes out, made brave now by Levi’s confessions.

“What if I am?” Levi retorts boldly, “what’s it to you?”

Erwin would chuckle, because that’s just like Levi to say, but the atmosphere is intense and Levi’s solemn expression means he’s expecting a response.

“I…don’t want to serve as your convenient reason to live, Levi,” he admits, “you deserve better than that.”

It’s harsh to downgrade all that Levi has said, but he feels that it’s better to be honest, because if that’s the point Levi’s gotten to then they have bigger problems. Levi should dedicate himself to something more than a borderline wretched commander who is surviving day by day.

Levi scowls and pushes at his chest hard so that his back hits the bed. He straddles him in one swift motion and grabs his chin so that they’re face to face. Erwin feels his heart climb up to his throat. “Bastard, don’t assume you know how I feel better than I do. I’m not asking you this because it’s convenient. I want it, _have_ wanted it for a long time.”

He leans down so that his lips hover above Erwin’s, their silky softness teasing him as he whispers “please, let me take care of you” against him.

Erwin grips his waist, eyes blown wide and breath quickening. Levi is looking right into his eyes, long lashes tickling his own, and feels that he has never been so exposed.

“Yes,” he whispers back as he swallows some moisture down to his dry throat, “okay”. He moves to press their mouths together, hesitant, but Levi meets him and Erwin tastes devotion and adoration on his lips. They kiss sweet, slow, but desperate all the same. He’s mesmerized by Levi’s touch, finds himself wondering if this is all real, if this isn’t some taunting dream that will leave him hard, aching, and lonely when he wakes. 

They break from each other to breathe and Levi is quick to run a hand through Erwin’s hair. He grips it hard and dives back down to Erwin’s mouth. “Don’t push me away anymore,” he growls as he presses messy kisses at the corner of his mouth, “I want to hear you say it. Say you’ll let me.”

His knee is grinding against his crotch now and Erwin groans as a shudder ripples throughout him. How can he possibly deny this man anything when his lips are soft on his neck, his hands carding through gold hair like he’s scared Erwin could dissipate at any minute? He forfeits because he does not stand a chance against the power, the force that is Levi. “Live for me,” he breathes, authorizes, “live for me, live for me”. 

Their mouths meet again and this time it’s ravenous, a battle to consume, to drink sweet words as they fall from each other’s lips. Erwin can’t get enough of the taste that is so distinctly _Levi_ , he wants to memorise it so that it lingers on his tongue in the morning.

When they break again Erwin can’t help but ask. “Why now? If this is what you have wanted for so long, what changed? Was it because of the expedition?”

Levi considers him, still panting, and sits back so that his arms are stretched out on his chest. “No,” he provides with a shake of his head, “it was the day we went to buy supplies.” He remembers it. Two days after they returned from beyond the wall they had gone into the local town to stock up on personal items.

“When you picked up that kid, the farmer’s boy – the one I found you playing stones with?” Erwin nods. “You looked so sad afterwards, like you wished you had a family of your own. It really hit me, the reality of what you’re giving up to be here. I don’t know, I guess it just broke something in me that intensified the way I already felt about you. I decided that I’d try to…make up for it all somehow, even if it was just doing small tasks to make your life less shitty. I don’t know…it’s stupid.”

Erwin sits up and takes Levi’s face in his hands, presses a chaste kiss on his temple. Levi’s eyes close in contentment at the affection. “It’s not stupid, Levi, it’s more than anyone has ever done for me and I appreciate it…so much.” 

He nuzzles at his neck and Levi runs his hands down the firm muscle of his arms, breathes in the scent of Erwin’s hair. He kisses him a final time before moving off of his lap.

“Where are you going?” he asks, confused and disappointed at the lack of _Levi_ he’s suddenly confronted with.

“I’m going to pack for the capital,” he replies with a small smile.

Erwin laughs, eyes crinkling at the edges, as he leans forward and pulls him back. “Stay,” he says, “we’ll go after tomorrow.”

He climbs back onto the bed, joins Erwin under the covers. He holds him tight against his chest and marvels at the way it all feels so natural, so practiced.

Levi falls asleep within minutes and the silence he leaves behind that night leaves Erwin vibrating in bliss. 

**Author's Note:**

> birbwin.tumblr.com


End file.
